


The Criminal, the File Clerk, and the Ultra Large Pizza

by bluestbluetoeverblue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Criminal Dean, Jail, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2086776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestbluetoeverblue/pseuds/bluestbluetoeverblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean gets arrested again but finds that being stuck in a police station may just have its perks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Criminal, the File Clerk, and the Ultra Large Pizza

Dean was led into the room and pushed into a chair by a fairly large man in a blue uniform. He jerked away from the officer and shifted uncomfortably at the the metal binding his wrists behind his back. With a huff, he settled into the chair and licked his chapped lips, tasting metallic on his tongue. Across the desk in front of him sat the owner of the office he was presently in. The sheriff looked no different from that of any other crappy small town Dean had been stuck in before. 

“Dean Winchester.” The sheriff put Dean’s wallet down on the desk, his license showing. “I’ve never heard of you, and I make it a point to know every nuisance in my town.”

Dean huffed. “I’m sure you do.” The sheriff’s eyes narrowed as a brunette woman in jeans and a blazar stepped into the office and handed him a manilla folder. Dean winked at the twenty-something assistant, causing her to blush. The officer flipped through the folder while Dean fidgeted in his handcuffs. He dropped the folder on the cluttered desk as well.

“Well, Mr. Winchester, this certainly isn’t your first time in a set of cuffs. Looks something like twelve arrests in the last three years but never any charges. Well don’t think daddy big shot FBI agent’s gonna bail you out this time.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Dean spat. 

“We’ve got you on charges of trespassing, vandalism, resisting arrest, and assaulting an officer.”

“Your idiot deputies hit me first.”

“Zip it. You will shut your mouth and behave or else.”

“Or else what? You won’t let me have any of your donuts? Keep me handcuffed forever? I’ve got rights.”

“We’ll see about that.” The man grabbed Dean by the shoulder and wrists and led him through the police station to the back holding cells, which were both empty until Dean took up residence in one. The sheriff chuckled and walked away victoriously. 

“Asshole,” Dean muttered, slamming his cuffs against the metal bars.

 

***

 

“Have a nice night, princess.”

“Don’t get too cold...use your blanky.”

“Make sure you get your beauty sleep.” 

A chorus of remarks came as the officers filed out of the police station for night patrols and the end of their shifts. One remained near the door after the rest left. He looked to be about seventy-five and fell asleep within minutes. Dean cursed himself and wondered if it was possible to die of self-hatred. Hopefully. It’d be better than when John came back to their current crapshoot and found Dean behind bars again. Even Sam wouldn’t be able to keep John’s rage down this time. Sam. Dammit.

 

***

 

Castiel removed his key from the station door and stepped into the peaceful silence. He loved working night shifts. They pleased his father while still allowing Castiel to keep his distance. The teen moved through the station without turning on any lights and was headed to the file room when he heard sounds coming from one of the holding cells across the hall. His father hadn’t mentioned them picking someone up. Then again, Castiel had managed to avoid seeing his father in person for nearly a week. Setting his messenger bag down in the filing room but not bothering to remove his large tan trenchcoat, Castiel peered around the corner of the jail and tried to catch a glimpse of the prisoner. 

He was lying on his back on the cell’s thin cot. Castiel caught light brown hair, a broad form, and a smoothly muscular arm with a black tattoo peeking out from a flannel button up. The figure breathed rhythmically underneath his green army jacket/makeshift blanket. 

“It’s pretty creepy to stare at someone while they sleep, you know,” the figure said in a deep voice that made Castiel’s breathing go unsteady. That combined with the blush spreading across his face caused Castiel to stammer out an “I-I’m sorry” from across the room. The figure turned over and sat up, facing the doorway Castiel stood in. 

“You just gonna stand there some more?” Dean smirked. “With AARP out there guarding the door, why do they need you, bright eyes?” Castiel huffed with a shake of his head and started out the door. “What’re you laughing about?” Dean called out, an irritated tint to his voice.

“You insult Officer Metras and attempt to aggravate me, but the end shall always be the same.”

“And what end would that be? Officer Methuselah or whatever has a stroke and I save his life and become a famous prisoner-turned hero?”

“You will still be in that cell in the morning while we will all be out here, enjoying our freedom.”

“Some of you enjoying it with black eyes and bruised jaws,” Dean retorted.

“If you are referring to Officers Sanchez and Johnson, it is an expected risk of their career.”

“Getting shown up by a seventeen year old is expected of them? I can’t say I’m too surprised.”

Castiel took a few steps closer to the cell. “That was you?” Dean nodded with a sly grin. His eyes--no, those giant orbs on his face that couldn’t be anything less than the dust molecules remnant of magnificent planets existing long ago and whose color could in no way be labeled with a simple five letters--were bright for a moment before he seemed to realize that he was smiling and became visibly less happy. “Why?” Castiel demanded.

“Why what?”

“Why did you assault them?”

“I didn’t assault anyone. Big Nose twisted my arms unnecessarily and shoved my face against a wall so that Officer Needs to Get A Haircut could punch me in the gut and they could both have a good laugh about it. So I fought back. Served the bastards right.”

 

***

 

Dean’s mouth clamped shut. What was he doing? The kid in the oversized trenchcoat stared at him quizzically and didn’t say a word. Those damn blue eyes seared into him. “Why’re you staring at me?” He didn’t answer right away.

“Because I think you are being truthful.”

“Okay…no offense, dude, but does it really matter if you believe me?”

“No. But it is always nice to know someone does.” Dean had no idea what to say, so he nodded slightly, causing a soft pain to shoot through his neck. He rubbed his hand across the back of it, and the blue-eyed boy shifted his feet. “My name is Castiel.”

“Dean.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Uh, you too.”

“I have to go do my filing now.”

“Have fun.”

Without another word or change in facial expression, he turned and left the room, traveling a short distance across the hall. Dean could hear some shuffling, then drawers or cabinets being opened and paper being moved about. 

 

***

 

Dean was halfway through Eye of the Tiger when he got the idea. He had hummed the last verse three times when he finally opened his mouth to ask. Dean didn’t usually have trouble talking to people, especially not when what he was saying could be taken as rude or inappropriate. But something about that Castiel kid made him nervous. Maybe it was the unruly dark hair that was just a bit too...distracting. Or maybe it was the eyes that Dean felt see through him. A good bet could be made on it being the kid’s damn voice. What was with the rasp? Not that it wasn’t incredibly...nice sounding. It just caught Dean off guard. Regardless, Dean only had one option.

“Hey Castiel,” Dean shouted. 

A few seconds went by before he heard a gravelly voice respond with an unsure “Yes?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a cellphone, would you?” Silence. Then, Castiel appeared in the doorway, his face blank. 

“Why?”

“Well,” Dean started, “I never really got that one phone call.”

“I’m not supposed to-”

“Please, man. It’s important.” His crystal eyes filled with uncertainty. “Come on. I can’t break out with a cellphone. One call. You can watch me the entire time.” 

Castiel pulled a flip phone from his pocket and reluctantly handed it to Dean, avoiding touching his hand. “One call.”

 

***

 

Castiel watched Dean jab numbers into the phone and have to restart because he went too quickly. Finally, Dean held the phone to his ear, and Castiel could have sworn he was holding his breath while it rang.

“Sammy?” Dean asked. “It’s me. It’s Dean…..Sam, listen. I got arrested and-.....no I wasn’t-…..calm down. You don’t need to worry…..don’t. Do not call him. It’ll be fine…..yes.....did you eat?.....there’s a bag of chips under my bed…..of course you did. Check in my bag beneath my jacket…..okay. Sammy, everything’s fine, okay?.....jerk.” 

Dean had been pacing around his cell. He sighed and closed the phone, still facing the back wall for a moment before turning and setting it on the small shelf that was part of the cell door. He dropped onto the cot and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Is everything alright?” Castiel asked quietly. 

“Well, I’m in jail, and my little brother’s alone in some shitty motel in a town of strangers. But everything’s just peachy, thanks for asking,” Dean muttered through his hands. 

“I could make a call...send an officer over.”

“No.” Dean looked up with wide eyes. “No cops. Sam’d be gone in a second. Then we’d both be screwed, and Dad would have to find him.”

“Can’t your father take care of your brother?” Castiel asked with a cockeyed head.

“You ask a lot of questions, Cas.” Castiel took a breath. Half at Dean calling him a nickname, half at his words, but Dean answered nonetheless. “My dad’s what you might call a grade-A bastard.” Castiel nodded, and before he knew what he was doing, words were falling out of his mouth.

“My father is similar.”

“Yeah? What’s he like?”

“You met the sheriff?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. Castiel nodded. “Oh. He’s your dad?” Another nod.

“The only reason they let an eighteen year-old work in the police station after hours.”

“Well,” Dean shrugged, “with the great station guard you’ve got up front, what is there to worry about?” 

Castiel laughed. “I suppose.”

 

***

 

Dean watched Cas’s eyes as he laughed and smiled. He needed to make more jokes. Maybe he could hear that laugh some more. Cas sat at the desk across from Dean’s cell, where he .could listen to Dean talk and chime in his own comments and stories. They were interrupted by a loud banging from the front of the station. Dean sat bolt upright and Castiel looked worriedly at the doorway. “I told Officer Metras he could go home. I said I wouldn’t tell my father.”

“Very kind of you, Cas. When we are murdered by the group of convicts currently breaking into the station, I will be blaming you.” Cas gave a small grin and muttered “shut up” before walking cautiously to the front. Dean heard more banging once Cas was gone and was worried for a minute as he heard the jangling of a set of keys. The station was quiet enough to hear anything said in the relatively small building, so Dean listened closely.

“What are you doing here?” Cas asked in his apparently always gruff voice.

“Well hello to you too, Cassie.” A girl’s voice. Irritated but chipper. “Gabe mentioned you were working, so I thought I’d bring you something to eat.” Dean thought he’d smelled something delicious. 

“Thank you. Very thoughtful though I know you are just checking up on me.”

“God, it’s quiet in there. And dark. I don’t understand how you can work in this place at night.”

“It is...surprisingly enjoyable.”

“Whatever. I have to get back to my deliveries. Can I get a tip?”

“I am not paying you for a gift.”

“How about you just give me a smile. Come on, I know you can do it. There you go, Cassie! That wasn’t too painful, was it?”

“Good night, Anna.”

Dean heard a door close, cutting off the girl’s voice, and Cas’s echoing footsteps that brought the fragrance of food to the holding cells. He walked in carrying a short cardboard box. “It’s a good thing my sister believes I can eat an entire ‘ultra large’ pizza myself.” 

Dean smiled. “Very lucky for prisoners who haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

 

***

 

The pizza box sat open and empty on the concrete floor. It was right next to the cell so that Dean could reach it through the bars from his spot on the floor. Cas sat on the ground as well, and both had their backs against the same wall. The bars and grease-stained box were between them. Dean stretched out his legs and arms. “That was a hell of a lot of pizza.”

Cas groaned, grabbing his stomach. “I have never eaten so much food in my life. They may need to add murder to your charges.”

“I didn’t make you take a single bite. I didn’t even get you the pizza.”

“Accessory then.”

“I can live with that.”

Cas rolled his head toward Dean as they both slipped into conscious food comas. “You have really green eyes, you know,” he said with a blank face. “Green isn’t the right word because it’s not good enough, like they’re way more than that, but yeah. They’re really green.”

“Thanks, Cas. You have really pretty eyes too.” Dean chuckled as he said what they both knew Castiel had meant. 

Cas sat up from the wall as a deep red spread across his face. “I’m supposed to be working,” he mumbled, sitting up onto his knees and preparing to stand up.

“Cas, wait. I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. I was just-”

“Lot of work to do,” he said under his breath and wrapped his hand around one of the cell bars for assistance in standing. But then Cas had no remaining capability of standing stably because Dean’s hand was wrapped around his and was warm and calloused yet soft. Castiel stared at their hands, and when he finally thought to look at Dean, he was unable to because Dean was up against the bars of the cell, his lips pressed against Cas’s. Castiel didn’t know what was happening. Okay, he knew what was happening, he just didn’t know whether he liked it. Okay, yeah he fucking loved it, but he still didn’t know what to do. So when Dean did pull away, Cas did the only thing going through his head. He reached through to grab onto Dean’s shirt, pulled him back to the bars, and kissed him back. 

 

***

 

Dean’s eyelids flicked open to a dimly lit view of a concrete ceiling. Then concrete walls and, oh look, a concrete floor. Dean sighed and went to shift on the too firm cot but found himself unable to move. Cas was barely on the tiny bed, even with Dean’s back pushed up against the wall, so there wasn’t exactly a lot of room to move around. Dean’s eyes jumped to the cell door, resting unlocked and open. The keys were lying on the ground beside the bed. As slowly as possible, Dean untangled his legs from Cas’s and lifted his left arm off of the sleeping boy. He started to sit up but paused. Get up. Get up. Dammit, Winchester, think about Sam. He was about to slip out of bed when he sighed, closed his eyes with indecision, and finally sank back down. Dean could feel the cool station air being replaced with the Cas’s warmth as he breathed in the scent of his shampoo, lemon, and the remnant fragrance of pizza. When he opened his eyes, a set of blue ones were staring back at him. 

“Shit, Cas. Say much? You seriously like staring at people.”

“Only the ones who look like you.” Cas seemed to blink at his own words as his cheeks turned slightly pink. 

Dean laughed softly. “Thanks.” He planted his lips on Cas’s jaw and travelled down his neck, kissing as much of the sweet skin as he could.

 

***

Dean’s lips were covering his neck, and Cas closed his eyes, running his hands across Dean’s back and feeling the dip of each muscle. Castiel breathed in the smell of his shampoo and pulled Dean’s face away from his skin with great reluctance. Dean leaned on one arm so that he was looking down at Castiel.

“You didn’t leave,” Cas said.

“I thought about it.”  
“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.” 

Castiel smiled and looked up at Dean, taking in the abrupt line of his jaw, the glint in his eyes, the curve of his tanned nose and forehead, and his chapped, round, and always slightly pouty lips. The lips that were soon gliding over Cas’s, biting softly. Castiel sighed and let himself relax into Dean’s embrace.

 

***

 

“SONOFABITCH.” 

“What is it, Novak?” The other officers swarmed the holding area to see what had angered the sheriff this time. They found the door to one of the holding cells open, with a key taped to the wall and a Post-it note with a message in black Sharpie scrawled across it: 

You should be more careful with your keys.

 

~Three Weeks Later~

 

Castiel shuffled into the house and dropped his bag by the door, giving a silent prayer that Gabriel was still out partying and Anna was at work. At five o’clock the sun was just beginning to rise, and he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep if they were home. Thankfully, the house remained void of loud, teasing voices. Castiel hung his trenchcoat in the coat closet and dropped onto the couch, picking up the stack of mail his siblings had let pile up on the coffee table. Spam, spam, bills, a copy of Busty Asian Beauties for Gabe, spam, Cas’s fingers stopped at an envelope addressed to him. He opened it gracefully and pulled out a postcard showing scenery from Sioux Falls, South Dakota. He flipped the card over and read the short message. 

 

Cas,

Now that you’re officially a criminal, maybe we should hang out some more. How about this time I don’t get arrested and you come to me? The return is my uncle’s place. Maybe I’ll see you around up here sometime. You never know.

P.S. Thanks for the pizza.

 

Castiel smiled.


End file.
